


Take me from the dark, I ain’t gonna make it myself

by Thesuspiciousflyingjellyfish



Series: Shameless Stark AU [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Final Fantasy XV, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Schizophrenia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:34:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thesuspiciousflyingjellyfish/pseuds/Thesuspiciousflyingjellyfish
Summary: Bran knew something was wrong, but it took awhile for the others to.TW: Sensitive topics of mental health and suicide. Not huge detail on the suicide though.
Relationships: Bran Stark & Sansa Stark, Bran Stark/Jojen Reed
Series: Shameless Stark AU [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2068332
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	Take me from the dark, I ain’t gonna make it myself

**Author's Note:**

> TW: descriptions of hallucinations and signs of schizophrenia. Also description of suicide via slit wrists.
> 
> Please tell me if any of this is inaccurate. I tried to research as best as possible, but research only goes so far, and I don’t want to offend or hurt anyone with my writing. Let me know and I will correct it to the best of my abilities.

It started sometime when he was eleven. Around a month after his parents died. It started as simple sounds and noises. No one else seemed to notice them, so Bran had thought that maybe he just had really good hearing. Hearing things down the street or in another room. Murmured conversations.

It then became strange sensations across his skin, like bugs crawling on him. He would twitch and scratch at things that weren’t there, absolutely convinced they were.

But all that he handled well, thinking it was nothing important, just sensitive skin and hearing. And if his skin bleed and was scratched raw, well, then he just wore long-sleeved shirts to hide it all.

Then it felt like a strange fog covered his mind, making life dull and blurred on the edges, creeping slowly over his thoughts. Bran loved history, but something has changed. He felt lethargic, unenthusiastic, when it came to history. In fact, it began to occur with much of his daily life and interests, and that _scared_ him.

There then began to be times where he just, _didn’t_ , do what would be normal for him. Lack of showering, to the point where Sansa had to remind him. Laughing in serious situations. At one point, some fear over took him and he convinced himself that he had to clean his entire room, top to bottom, all the nooks and crannies. And if he didn’t something _bad_ would happen.

It all occurred over around three months, things slowly adding onto the pile of whatever the fuck was going on with him. _He was scared._

And then the voices slipped into his hearing. Into his _head_. Hushed whispers becoming louder. Not all were horrible, sometimes it was like someone else joined the conversation at the family dinner table. Or during class, a non-descriptive voice would say something from the back of the class. When no one reacted to it, Bran turned around and saw that he was already in the back row, and that there was no one behind him.

However, the majority of the time, it was unsettling and mean. Derisive insults and bating him to hurt himself, the voices like the other kids at school. He was never really popular to begin with, like most kids, a victim to bullying, but this was different. Because it followed him home and into the bedroom he shared with Rickon.

He had tried to hide all these problems, convinced he was going crazy, and he didn’t want to freak his family out. But he was sure Rickon knew something was going on, going by the way he snapped Bran out of staring into space. A look of childish concern on his face when he said, “You’ve been staring at the wall for like, ten minutes. Are you okay?”

He had managed to shrug Rickon off, some excuse tumbling from his trembling lips, and hurried into the bathroom for some space to freak out. He had gripped the sink edge tightly with shaking hands and stared into the mirror, breaths quick and heavy. He barely even recognised himself anymore, dark circles and pale skin forming. He used to be tan from playing and running around in the sunlit streets of their city.

It all broke down one Saturday morning, coming into the kitchen for something to eat. Sansa was already up, as she usually would be. They had also found Jojen and Meera a week after their father was arrested, so they were camping out in the living room. After giving Sansa and Jojen a sleepy greeting, Bran rummaged around in the fridge for a carton of juice, and after turning back around, he froze, carton falling from his hand.

Because, standing in the door way, was the most _horrifying_ thing he had ever seen in his life. It was both so vivid and dizzyingly distorted all at once. Dark. Looming. Black hair falling in it’s face, and a dead eyes staring into his.

A scream ripped from his throat and he smashed into fridge in his urgency to escape the creature that just watched him.

Shoulder throbbing, he continued to back up from the kitchen door way, and hitting into the wall of the dining room. Unable to go any farther, his legs collapsed under him and he could hear something loud wailing in his ears.

Was it him?

Was it the voices?

Was it the thing that

Just

Started

To

Move

_Closer_

When Bran began to scream, Jojen jumped from his seat, startled, and whipped around to make sure he was alright. He was frantically retreating away from something, but when Sansa hurriedly looked through the kitchen door way, ready to defend her brother, there was no one there.

But Bran was screaming hysterically, a panicked plea escaping his lips. “-stop please! Stop don’t come closer! _Please! Sansa! Sansa please!_ ” He begged for his sister to help him, and Sansa turned swiftly from the door way to her brother.

But Jojen managed to get to his side first, with Sansa coming in second. Kneeling by his side, Jojen looked back once more, from his best friend’s point of view, trying to see if he could notice what Bran was convinced was coming towards him.

But there was _nothing_.

His hands were clammy with unknown instinctual fear, an urge to defend Bran, but there was nothing to defend!

“Bran!” He began to speak, “Bran, _nothing_ is there, it’s _okay!_ ”

But the younger boy just shook his head, and continued to cower, completely convinced that whatever he saw, it was _real_.

Biting his lip, he shared a frightened look with Sansa, however there was something in her eyes that looked like recognition. “ _Hallucination_.” She murmured to him, and his head snapping back to Bran’s terrified cries, Jojen let instincts guide him, as they’ve never failed him before.

Damp hands came up to cradle the boy’s face, and needing to get closer, Jojen found himself sitting on Bran’s thighs. The movement and sudden weight got him Bran’s attention, and Jojen took that opportunity to talk.

“Whatever it is that you are seeing, it can’t hurt you. I _promise_ , Bran. I would _never_ let anything hurt you okay.” Jojen vowed, solemnly and teary eyes stared desperately up at him. Jojen began to card his fingers through Bran’s wavy red hair, and gently pulled his head to his chest, effectively blocking whatever he was seeing from sight.

Holding him close, Jojen continued to speak in low, soothing tones, “It won’t hurt you, okay? I’m right here. Sansa is here, and you know she would beat anything with that fucking baseball bat that dared to hurt you and your family.” That got a wheezing laugh from the boy, and Jojen gave a relieved look to Sansa, who seemed to be keeping an eye on them but also quickly texting something on her phone.

At his questioning glance, she mouthed ‘ _Robb_ ’ and he nodded, before returning all his focus back to Bran. At this point, he could feel the other’s hands gripping the back of his shirt with trembling hands, face buried into his chest.

Almost without conscious decision, Jojen pressed a soft kiss to the boy’s head, and a soft realisation flooded his mind. Blinking in distant shock at the soft yellow painted wall in front of him, Jojen let that new knowledge settle in the back of his mind. Now wasn’t the time for developed crushes.

Sansa could feel her heart calming down once Jojen managed to get Bran to stop crying. A part of her needed to reach out and comfort her brother herself, but after seeing Jojen handle it so well, she focused on what she could do instead.

After texting Robb, who was currently over at his girlfriend Jeyne Westerling’s house, that there was a family emergency, she rang up the doctor’s for an appointment. Sansa managed to wrangle an afternoon one for today, needing to get her brother help as soon as possible.

Placing her phone on the ground next to her, and watching how Bran had shifted his head so he was facing her direction, his ear pressed to Jojen’s chest, she gave him a soft, wry smile. Of all the things to happen to their family, life just had add one more terrible thing on top of it all. Just their luck.

“What’s wrong with me?” And her heart ached at the tired, voice. A resignation to his circumstance.

Shuffling closer, Sansa took one of his hands from Jojen’s shirt and cradled it, rubbing soft circles on his palm. “Is this your first visual hallucination?” She asked instead of answering his question, and at his nod, she went onto her next one. “What about auditory?”

He looked off to the side, as if ashamed, but answered them with a whisper.“Yeah. They, aren’t nice.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she agreed, “I would imagine they’re not.” And then, hesitating for a second, Sansa wetted her lips and answered his question.

“I could be wrong, but, you may have schizophrenia, Bran.” She watched as his mind seemed to shuffle through medical conditions that he has heard of, and noted with a small amount of tired relief that his eyes lit up with utterly gutted recognition. At the very least she wouldn’t have to explain that to him at this moment. He already looked so distraught by what was happening currently, telling him of a condition he had never known before would just confuse his already confused mind.

“Oh.” A quiet whisper. His eyes closed as if in pain, and turned his head fully back into Jojen’s chest. Said boy looked at Sansa with wide, horrified eyes. 

She continued, “Generally, it’s genetic. Aunt Lysa had it.”

“Didn’t she kill herself?” His voice was muffled in Jojen’s chest, but Sansa heard him clearly.

This time, she closed her eyes, but more in remembrance than pain. She remembered being six and Robb three, a distant memory of them visiting Aunt Lysa, only to find her body, wrists slit and still bleeding sluggishly on her kitchen floor. “Yeah. She did.”

“Am I?”

Jojen’s arm tightened around Bran and was the one who answered first, “No. No you will not, Bran.” And the firm determination had Sansa so grateful Bran had such a good friend. “Cause we are going to get you help.” He continued, “And we, your family, will be there every step of the way. Okay?” 

“Okay.” And there was a tiny flicker of hope in his voice when Bran agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, Bran has schizophrenia, but that doesn’t mean that will be his entire character arc, there is more to come for him, as well as getting help and learning to live well with his mental disorder. His family will be there every step of the way, because fuck not getting help and support. 
> 
> Also, yeah, Bran and Jojen will be getting together, but not for awhile. Just a slow burn on their end. Jojen is 14, Meera 15 and Bran currently 12. And i just noticed the inconsistencies from the first part where bran had their homework despite being in different grades. So im going to say Bran is either a nerd who skipped a few grades or super adorable and went to their classes and asked for their homework cause he is a good friend. 
> 
> It will be touched upon later, but Sansa did notice something was wrong, but seeing as this is about a year after their parents death, she thought maybe it was grief settling in. But she figured out what is was because after Aunt Lysa, she remembered that for a long time and researched what it was. After learning it can be genetic, she had always been on guard thinking one of her family members would have it. But with so much stress and chaotic shit happening, she failed to notice the smaller, subtler signs.
> 
> thank you for reading!


End file.
